


You Could Tear It All Down

by writerseventeen



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerseventeen/pseuds/writerseventeen
Summary: Rick has a confrontation with the President... of the Citadel.





	1. Chapter 1

“MoOrty, I- I need you to pass me that cellular membrane de-polarizer whenever- whenever you get the chance.”

 

Rick held his left arm out, palm flat and waiting, while his other arm was holding steady a vile of coagulated organelles from the Schincter plant on J moon 46 in the Krackler galaxy. Harvesting the plant was no easy task. It had a defense mechanism of dagger like thorns that detected heat movement and striked accordingly. The scientist nearly had both his eyes gouged out while prying open the plant’s violent pistil.

 

When no de-polarizer was dropped in his hand after a couple of seconds Rick sighed, exasperated.

 

“You know Morty when I said ‘whenever you get the chance’ I was being sarcastic. I really meant that I- uURp- need the instrument right away because timing chemical reactions properly is an essential part of my work and if I don’t do this right all my efforts spent in the past eight hours was for nothing.”

 

Now that Rick was forced to disassociate from his experiment, he could hear the rustling around of cardboard boxes and metal parts behind him, things being flung about the garage. No doubt Morty searching but not really _looking_ for the requested instrument.

 

“Ah geez- Rick I-I’m doing my best to find it. It’s the um- the glowing pink one right? With the black handle?”

 

Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

 

“You know Morty when people aren’t sure about what something looks like they usually ask for clarification before they start looking for that thing.”

 

“Yeah Rick. I-I know that. That’s like like common sense.”

 

Rick took on a pretend thoughtful tone, “You-you-you know Morty I really thought that too. You know, I really did think it was common sense and- and I really would’ve been happy that we could agree on that.”

 

“Rick where is this going?”

 

“Where this is going **Morty,”** the scientist stood up, pointing at the equipment on his desk, “Is straight into the fucking trash. You know because I missed my window to de-polarize the cells’ membranes and implant custom protein 820 in its cytoplasm because you pretended to knowW-uRRP what my de-polarizer looked like and wasted away forty five seconds of precious window time?”

 

Morty dropped what looked alot like the de-polarizer back into the box he’d been previously rummaging through and whirled around to face the older man.

 

“You know Rick, I’m getting pretty sick and tired of your, of your impatience lately.”

 

“Oh wow so observant- my impatience huh Morty?”

 

“Yeah Rick. Y’know there’s a lot of qualities you have that I don’t like. But I’m choosing your impatience right now because it’s really been out of control lately!”

 

“Out of control,” mocked the older man, “Revolutionary psyche analysis Morty.”

 

The younger man felt his blood begin to boil and tightened his hands into fists at his side.

 

“Oh, okay fine, deflect everything I say with empty sarcasm fueled by self-hatred,” Rick narrowed his eyes at the younger man’s words, “Yeah that’s right, I see right through your bullshit Rick.”

 

“Jeez Morty you sound like the poop eating monologue specialist you went to for therapy.”

 

“We all went to Dr. Wong Rick,” Morty corrected sharply, “I-I recall you showing up as a half shredded pickle covered in sewage on the verge of death.”

 

“Oh what a burn Morty! You enlisted the help of your memory to construct what you thought would be an insult to me but really was just an accurate description of how I appeared at the time!”

 

“You pretend everything I say doesn’t hurt you Rick but I know it does!”

 

Rick rolled his eyes, “No Morty. Sorry to burst your microscopic bubble for a brain but it doesn’t. You don’t know how to insult. Don’t know how to cut deep.”

 

“Oh really? Attacking your flaws isn’t a method? En-enlighten me then Rick. What is an insult?”

 

“You don’t want to open that door Morty. It’s-it’s going to knock you in the face.”

 

“I know you act like nothing I say hurts you but that’s bullshit Rick.”

 

“I don’t _act_ like nothing you say hurts me. Nothing you say _does_ hurt me. Sorry to deny something that doesn’t exist.” Rick took a long swig of his flask, the liquid burning like ants biting down his throat, “Nothing from a Morty could hurt me,” Rick turned the flask over a couple of times in his hands, noting the fingerprint indents left along the side from years of constant overuse. He sighed then brought the container back to his lips, “… not after him.”

 

There was a long silence. The gears in Morty’s mind began to turn a different direction, no longer interested in pursuing an argument with Rick.

 

He took on a softer tone, “What-what do you mean by ‘him’ Rick?”

 

The older man was chugging out of his flask now. Morty watched the rhythmic bob of his throat as each mouthful of toxic liquid was gulped down as if it was water. When the container was drained, the scientist tossed it aside, eyes glazed over and unfocused. Even after years of observing Rick’s alcoholic lifestyle, it still was off putting to see his grandpa destroy himself so casually.

 

“Don’t you mean _who_ , Morty.”

 

Rick pushed past him to reach a bottle on the top shelf, his coat tails brushing against the younger man’s shoulders.

 

“Yeah yeah I meant who.”

 

Rick found what he was looking for, an unopened bottle of tequila. He screwed off the lid with practiced ease and tossed it blindly behind him then resumed drinking. Morty was looking up at him, patiently waiting for a response. He got one twelve percent of the time.

 

“I said who, Rick.”

 

The older man responded with abrupt promptness, “Wh-who? Who are we talking about?” asked Rick, staring down into his grandson’s wide eyes. They were so round and white and clean. So goddamn clean and white.

 

“You said nothing could ever hurt you… not after him.”

 

Rick stared ahead for a few moments before shrugging and walking back towards his desk, “No idea what URRp the hell you’re talking about Morty.”

 

Rick collapsed back into his seat and reclined as much as he could, his arms and legs sprawled out in front of him. He let out a deep sigh before throwing an arm over his eyes. Darkness helped calm the growing throbbing in his head. After a while, Morty realized the potential of conversation was very low. Rick typically would’ve broken the silence by now and Morty was beginning to realize just how little he spoke unless spoken to. The younger man shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, hands held tightly behind his back, he wasn’t sure how to choose what words to say. Instead, he opted to stare at the back of his grandpa’s head, wondering if the scientist had passed out.

“Morty,” spoke Rick lowly, the teenager couldn’t help the surge of anxiousness that passed through him. Was Rick going to snap at him like he was so much lately? “Pass-pass me the de-polarizer. It _is_ the pink one with the black handle.”

The small instrument was placed on his desk not five seconds later and Rick cracked open one eye. Morty was staring down at him, concern written across his features.

“Stop that Morty. Stop thinking, god. It’s invasive somehow.”

“You- you know Rick, if I said or did something to make you mad at me or whatever s-sorry. I didn’t mean to mess anything up. I-I feel like we haven’t fought in a while and I kind of liked it like that you know?”

Rick sat up fully, resting his elbows heavily on the table. Something was stinging behind his eye and he began to rub at the place furiously.  “It wasn’t anything _you_ did Morty. It wasn’t anything you did.”

The older man began to pick up where he left off, grabbing various contraptions and pulling them closer. His goggles were slapped back on his head and he was numb to the world.

Morty heard Rick continue to mutter the same phrase over and over again, “ _It wasn’t anything you did. Not you.”_

****

The blood was dripping off the table and onto the floor. He watched how each drop expanded like a flower blossoming as it fell against the white tile. Some part of him didn’t want the bodies taken away. He wanted to watch the life dripping out of them till they were dry.

“Sir? How should we proceed?”

The new president took a sip of his bourbon. It was a bit weak for him. His eyes scanned over the room of carnage. Some of the richest and most powerful Ricks were lying on the ground and across the table. The two Ricks that hadn’t raised their hands sat rigid in their seats, paranoid one wrong move could have them shot.

“Remove the bodies. Keep their brains as always. Incinerate what’s left.”

The Rick head of security bowed his head before turning and beginning the cleanup.

“You two can leave,” the President stated with a dismissive wave, moving to look out the window.

The two business Ricks jumped at the opening and were about to leave till a blaster was pressed coldly to their chests.

The President looked over his shoulder and made sure he had both Ricks’ attention, “…And not tell anyone what you witnessed here.”

Both men shook their heads in accordance, stuttering frazzled promises to keep their mouths shut no matter what.

Taking over the Citadel of “Ricks” had been as easy as he first calculated. It just took a long time and the President was tired of being patient. He wanted to move his plan into immediate action and coercing the tycoon Ricks to side with him via under the table politics and side deals seemed unnecessary. Too unstable. Any one of them could’ve turned against him the moment their egos became dissatisfied. The President didn’t want to open that door, considering he already had them all under his control.  

But there was one loose end. One anomaly in the infinite universe and entirety of his calculations that could turn everything he’s worked so hard to build into ash. Rick C-137.


	2. Inbetween Emotions

When Rick came to consciousness he quickly realized three things. He was strapped down. He was being carried. And his head hurt like a bitch. Sunlight was blasting into his eyes and he blinked vigorously to filter it out. When his vision was restored he turned his head to the side and saw where he was.

“Oh fuck.”

There were swarms of Ricks and Morties walking around looking anxious when they caught sight of him on the stretcher. Rick groaned. He was back at the Citadel which was looking put together despite him blowing it up.

One of the Ricks that kidnapped him noticed he was awake and began speaking.   
  
“Rick C-137. We were given orders to invite you to the new Citadel.”

“Invite me? Invite me?!” repeated Rick, shaking his handcuffs in front of their faces. He tried to get up but couldn’t. They must’ve sedated him, fuck.

“And use force if necessary.”

“Fucking dipshits… You kidnapped my Morty! Where is he?”

His brain was still combatting the drugs, but the memories were trickling back slowly. He and Morty had been in the garage when a portal opened, and twenty Ricks swung in firing darts all over the place. Five of them hit Morty and he immediately fell to the floor. Rick reached for his laser gun, but nine more darts hit him, and everything went black. Now he was at the Citadel. His Morty was nowhere to be found.

“You may want to check your attitude Rick C-137. The President isn’t very forgiving of overt Rick behavior, especially demeaning remarks.”

“Demeaning remarks is part of our DNA. Well it is mine, don’t know about you shitheads.”

There was no response until Rick realized something. “Wait what? Did you say _President?_ What happened to the council of idiots?”

“The Council was abolished in the reconstruction. The President was elected to oversee the Citadel. He has promised to restore balance to society.”

“Elected huh? Who is this Rick? What dimension? It better not be Beta F-58. That guy thinks he’s the smartest fuck-,”

“Can you shut the hell up C-137.”

“Elected? You know whatever Rick this is he manipulated all your sorry asses. ‘Restore balance to society?’ No Rick could or would pull of overtaking the Citadel for any reason other than self serv-,”

“He’s not a Rick.”

Dead silence.

“A… A Morty?” The question in context felt strange coming out of his mouth.

“Wow impressive conclusion! The Citadel where there’s only Ricks and Morties. You go C-137! You get a gold star!” The two guards high fived themselves, cackling meanly.

Rick felt his eye begin to sting again. There was only one Morty who could even come close…

***

There he was, looking out the window. Just the way he stood Rick could tell it was him. A more slender and confident posture, sipping easily on a glass of strong bourbon. Wholly disarming.

“I’m happy you accepted my invitation.”

His voice was smooth and warm. It lacked the Morty-typical stutter that accompanied almost every word. Rick felt his head throb.

“I-I didn’t exactly _accept_ it. I was **more taken against my will** ,” Rick emphasized the last sentence with increasing volume.

The President took a long sip out of his glass, “You wouldn’t have come willingly.”

“Obviously not,” bit Rick, “What the hell are you doing here? How did you? … how did-,”

“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” snapped the President, whirling around to face him, “This is where I always planned on going. You of all people should know that.”

“So. What’s your big plan here huh? What’re you getting at?”

He shrugged, “Universal power.”

“Oof taking over the whole universe? Isn’t that a bit mainstream and not to mention predictable. Didn’t think that was your style.”

“And what would you know about my style?” Rick froze, the stinging was turning into throbbing, “You never did know anything real about me. You were so easy to play-,”

“Taking over the universe isn’t anyone’s style. It’s statistically impossible.”

“Manipulating the smartest man in the universe wasn’t that hard,” The Morty’s eyes locked on hard to his, “Everyone else is considered minnows at that point.”

Rick swallowed thickly. The back of his head was hurting so goddamn much.

“Where’s your eye patch?”

“Don’t need it anymore. They’re all under my control… but I can get it out for old time’s sake-,”

“No,” interrupted Rick quickly. “No.”

The President set his glass on the table behind him and began walking towards Rick. His eyes never leaving the older man. The heels of his shoes reverberated across the room with each step. Besides that, it was quiet. Rick felt like throwing something, maybe banging his head against the wall to get rid of this _goddamn_ throbbing.

The younger man came up close and below him, standing only a few inches away. He studied the lines of Rick’s face, from his sharp jaw all the way up to his full hairline. He looked the same but… different. Still broken, as he had left him, but there was still a spark of life behind his eyes. The President wasn’t happy with this.

Rick’s heart was racing in his chest and refused to meet the younger man’s eye.

“I’d thought you’d be happy to see me,” spoke the President, still watching the scientist closely. Rick could feel his soft breaths against his neck. He was too close.

Inhaling deeply, he looked down to meet the President’s attentive gaze. He forced his voice not to crack, thankful for his years of experience with holding composure in dangerous situations. Fake it till you make it right?

“Well that’s a stupid thing to say. As to how I’m feeling, I’m so far from being happy to see you I might as well be dead.”

The President’s jaw twitched at the mention of him being “stupid.” He took a step back. With one brief comment form Rick, his demeanor had dissolved from a suave, I-have-the-high-ground here to fed-up and annoyed. He scowled.

“Well,” began the younger man, twirling away to pour himself another drink, “You will be soon enough but not until after you give me what I want.”

“Anddd this is when I ask you what you want.”

The President smiled, setting down the bottle of bourbon. “Yes.”

Rick scoffed, “And what the hell makes you think I’d give _you_ anything? Ever.”

“Oh, but you’ve already given me so much,” began the President sweetly, “All your happiness, devotion, intelligence, curiosity… and love.”

The younger man spoke the last word with biting emphasis, cruel.

“I’m honestly surprised you’re still alive after what you had to go through.”

Rick curled his hands into fists, knuckles cracking under the pressure. His head began to hurt again, and the President just smirked at him, knowing exactly what he was triggering.

“Hm well, regardless of whether you’ll be participating willingly or not-,”

The older man saw red, “As if you’ve ever given a shit about that you fucking monst-!”

“You will give me what I want. You know what I mean, the weapon Rick. _The Weapon._ ”

Rick felt his heart stop and chest tighten. No. No. He can’t seriously be asking for this. No. With as much venom he could inject into his voice, he replied.

“Fuck. No. Never. You hear me you little shit? Fucking never.”

The President sighed heavily, “Well I expected you to say that so it’s a good thing I have a Brainalizer and can just extract the information for myself.”

“No. _Morty_. Seriously you don’t-,”

“Oh but I do,” snapped the President, coming to stand right in front of Rick again. He studied the older man’s eyes which held a mixture of anger, disbelief, and concern. He hated seeing the concern in them, as if the older man wasn’t convinced this was the true him, capable of such evil.

“Stop that jeez. Stop looking at me like this isn’t the real me, considering all the things I’ve done to you- this would seem like the logical next step.”

When Rick spoke his tone was soft, defeated, “You’re not this evil Morty. Don’t-,”

“And how would you know? You bailed on me. You have no idea how I dealt with it after.”

“Cut the victim shit,” spat Rick. “What you did crossed the line.”

The President smiled bitterly, “Well, I see you went and found a new Morty, who I’ve already met by the way,” Rick snarled, “I can see why you like him. He’s dim witted, submissive, easy to keep in line, easy to hurt… but I can’t help but be disappointed. Have your preferences for the powerful and unforgiving changed into a desire for the pathetic and meek?”

“You don’t know shit about him. He’s better than you in every way. He’s the one true Morty.”

The President tsked up at him. “You’ve downgraded big time. What a disappointment.”

Then the President was slammed up against the wall, all the air escaped his lungs with the powerful shove. He gasped.

“You talk some good bullshit but you know I could still wreck you baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY! CLIFFHANGER! Honestly though thanks to anyone who's reading really means alot! Comment and tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> wooh! first time writing in this fandom wow i'm going to hell but whatever! religion is a social construct! stay tuned!! I love this show!!


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